Cardamom Gelato and Cream Pies
by Genevieve Darcy Granger
Summary: One of the perks of being a Savior at the Sanctuary has to be the ice cream, but Simon in particular as an interest in the ice cream maker. Eventually, they get up to a little cooking and baking of their own. It's a magical experience. Very beautiful.


Simon had just gotten back from the Hilltop, the new Dr. Harlan Carson in tow, and Simon was more than a little annoyed to find Negan cozying up to Dr. Eugene Porter – Chief Engineer and Mullet-Man. It wasn't like Simon was jealous, only that Simon didn't trust Eugene. Still, it wasn't like he could grill into Eugene without arousing Negan's ire and suspicion. Simon needed a distraction; and since it was a particularly hot day, he thought ice cream would be nice. Making his way to the kitchens alone (Harlan expressed his lactose intolerance and his eagerness to see his new office), Simon wondered if the ice cream maker – a nice lady named Amelia with cornflower blue eyes and fair blonde hair – had any of that cardamom gelato ready.

In truth, he was trying to convince himself that the reason he hung around the kitchens so much was strictly for the ice cream, but that wasn't really the case. Amelia was more than a damn good chef and a beauty; she was funny as hell and a joy to be around. Sometimes when Simon sat around enjoying the ice cream, Amelia would stick around, too, usually cooking something. Amelia was the only chef in the Sanctuary that Negan trusted to cook for him. All the other chefs made conservative slop meals to be served to the regular workers in the cafeteria, but Amelia – the only woman with culinary experience – made the fancy, actually edible meals for Negan and the other Saviors. Privately, Simon liked to watch her work as she was obvious a master in her element, comfortable in the kitchen doing anything from churning gelato to flipping omelets to rolling out bread. Often while she worked she could talk to Simon, too, happy for the conversation. The other chefs were jealous of her position and thought she was 'snotty' when Simon couldn't comprehend that belief. By all means, Amelia brought domesticity to the factory, a sense of normalcy that Simon had been missing since the end of the world.

It seemed that Amelia didn't mind Simon hanging around. Maybe it was because he acted a buffer so the other chefs couldn't harass her, or maybe it was because she enjoyed the audience and the fact that he never complained about what she served him (Negan's wives were extremely picky). Either way, she hadn't shooed Simon away yet, so he kept coming back. Simon suspected she knew about his feelings, but the only thing that stopped him from acting on it was not knowing how she felt in return. Amelia was nice to everyone – even her shitty coworkers. It through Simon for a loop, albeit a pleasant one, that she could be so kind when the world has gone to shit.

Before he knew it, Simon was in the kitchen, and it was no surprise that Amelia was already there, directing the other chefs on how to stretched the cans into a makeshift meatloaf that lacked actual meat, unless you count spam and tuna, which Simon didn't. He lingered by the doorway, taking in the sight of Amelia patiently explaining the recipe. She had that look on her face, the one she got when she was serious but happy. Even though the food was not going to be the best, Amelia still took pride in her work. Tucking back her hair behind her ears, she lifted her head and caught sight of Simon. As soon as she saw him, her face broke out in a smile. Amelia nodded at him, and then turned back to the others, "Okay, guys, I'll leave you to it." Then she came to Simon, that smile still on her face reaching all the way up to her eyes. "Simon, what're you in the mood for tonight?"

Shifting his mind away from innuendos, Simon unconsciously lowered his head while addressing her, "Oh, I actually have a bit of a sweet tooth right now." While he had always been a bit over average height for a man, Amelia was definitely below the average height for a woman. The height difference between them was almost comical as she barely came up to his chest.

"Gelato for dinner again?" Amelia laughed at him. Fondly she smacked his chest with one hand while she grabbed his wrist with the other. She pulled him behind her as she made her way to the freezer where she kept some ice cream on hand just for Simon's cravings. "I hope the Sanctuary has a dentist, because I have a feeling you'll need one soon."

Following after her happily, Simon countered, "And I hope we don't have one. I always hated the dentist." In the freezer, Simon made himself comfortable. Since he frequented here so much, he had taken the liberty of setting up a small table with two chairs: one for him and one for her. He took a seat, watching Amelia fetch the two bowls she kept chilled in here and the ice cream scoop. With practiced ease, she doled out three scoops of cardamom gelato into his bowl and then one into hers. "Hey," Simon protested, "Give yourself three scoops, too. You've more than deserved it with all your hard work."

"You don't have to flatter me, Simon, I already make you ice cream," Amelia shook her head at him. Her mouth twisted into a wry grin as she continued, "Besides, unlike you, I can't eat nothing but ice cream and still stay in fantastic shape." Pointedly, her eyes roved over him and then she stuck a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth, smiling around the spoon. She slowly dragged the spoon out between her lips, flicking her tongue out after it and licking it clean. All the while, her eyes were on him.

See, this was the normal flirtatious banter between them. Simon at least knew she was attracted to him bodily. The only problem was that he was interested in more than just sex and ice cream with her. It was a matter of trying show that to her that was stumping Simon so far. Still, sex seemed as good a place to start as ever. Smirking back at her, Simon chose to take a bite of his ice cream rather than replying. He savored the taste, taking his time eating it. Though Amelia had promised she'd make gelato for him whenever he wanted, it was still a luxury as resources were limited. Without meaning to, Simon moaned appreciatively around his spoon. Simon wasn't even away that he did it until he caught Amelia staring at him with a pleased expression. "Sorry, I've just been looking forward to this all day."

"Oh no, by all means continue. That's one of the best compliments a chef can get." Amelia smiled at him softly, already finished with her ice cream. She propped her chin on her hands, tilting her head to the side slightly.

Simon wasn't sure if he was blushing, but he hoped it wasn't noticeable. He saw Amelia shiver slightly, shimming and wrapping her arms around herself. "You're getting cold. Here, I'll finish up and we can head out again." Picking up the bowl, he slurped down the rest of the ice cream, trying to keep the noises to a minimum. The bowl blocked his view, so he didn't notice the way Amelia looked at him.

Lucky for Amelia, Simon couldn't read mind either, so he didn't know that she was imagining his face buried between her thighs rather than that bowl. Amelia had thought Simon to be charming, He was as sweet as gelato, and much less brutish that the Saviors that came barging down to the kitchens rudely making demands. With her, he was patient and kind...Yes, Amelia expected that she more than just liked Simon at this point. Out of everyone here at the Sanctuary, he had to be her best friend. However, she was very tempted to be more than friends with him at this point. Since he had been promoted to be a liaison with the Hilltop she wouldn't be able to see him as often. While they were still together, she wanted to make the most of their time.

Blinking, Amelia shook away those thoughts, not wanting to spoil anything. "You know, you have to let me make you another flavor of ice cream sometime. I'm sure you must get bored of cardamom gelato – no matter how fun you think it is to say," she finished with a tease. Cardamom gelato was the first thing she ever made for Simon. He had asked on a whim if she could make ice cream since he found an ice cream maker, and she said yes, and made cardamom gelato since it was the fanciest thing she could think of it.

In those early days, she wanted to impress him; and she succeeded. Simon had never heard of cardamom until she introduced it to him, and ever since then he had become obsessed with it. Amelia had successfully sunk her hooks into him to keep him coming back, and to this day she didn't regret it. At first, she kept him around to inflate her ego, to compliment her cooking, but then she thought he was nice to look at. They got to talking, and Simon made good conversation…and then Amelia fell hard and fast.

Setting the now clean bowl down, Simon looked up, catching that peculiar look on Amelia's face. He would see flashes of that mystery emotion here and there, but he couldn't quite decipher it yet. Like him, Amelia had a very expressive face, but unlike him she could hide her emotions much better. Nonetheless, Simon enjoyed the challenge of trying to read her; she was an interesting, captivating puzzle. Before he could ask about what that particular face was for, Amelia broke out into laughter, loud and unrestrained. "What? I didn't even say anything yet."

Laughter abating into snickers now, Amelia managed to convey, "No, no, it's nothing mean, it's just you look so adorable right now." Leaning across the table, she reached out her hand and caught his chin in her palm. Ever so gently, she swept the pad of her thumb over his thick, black mustache, clearing away the remnants of the cardamom gelato. "I hope you weren't saving this for later. You know we've got just over a gallon left."

Leaning into her soft touch, Simon kissed her thumb on a whim. He held her hand in place with one of his own, pressing his palm against her hand firmly, intertwining their overlapping fingers.

Immediately, Amelia's first reaction was to still her movements. The expression of amusement slid off her face, though in its wake was a much softer emotion, the brightness still left in her blue eyes. In a very small, quiet voice that wavered ever so slightly, Amelia said, "Simon…" She trailed off, leaving it up to him where to take it from here.

Inwardly, Simon debated with himself whether he had gone too far or not far enough yet. Eventually, his baser desires won out. Slipping his hand down, he easily encircled her wrist with his thumb and forefinger, tugging on her arm. "Come here, Amelia."

Without hesitation, she did as he asked, coming around the table quickly. She fell into his lap, shifting around to straddle him, and threw her arms around his neck. Dipping her head, she pressed a kiss to his forehead first, mumbling around it, "Oh, Simon, I've wanted this for so long." Her kisses trailed down to his nose, his mustache, skipping his mouth to his chin before finally moving to his mouth. He tasted like the cardamom gelato, of course, but there was an underlying flavor that was strictly Simon, and even then, that was sweet, too. Both his lips and his mustache were sticky, but Amelia hardly minded. Simon was held in place for her kisses as she pressed herself against him from pelvis to sternum, squashing her breasts against the hard planes of his chest. Confidently, she grinded down on his lap, feet dangling above the floor because his thighs were so large and hips so broad that her short legs were splayed out wide to straddle him. This was even better than she fantasized.

Beneath her, Simon had the same revelation. Even in his wildest dreams, he never imagined Amelia's lips to be so soft against his, or for her to move against him like this so wantonly. He wrapped his arms around her waist, the insides of his elbows resting on the wide curves of her hips. His hands grabbed her generous rear and pulled her impossibly tighter to him, fingers splayed out to feel as much of her as possible as he dug his fingertips into her. The feel of her full breasts flush against him, just below his chin, was very distracting if her mouth wasn't so good at kissing. Eventually, though, he had to pull away for air. Once he did, he muttered to her breathlessly, "I've wanted this since you first showed me how to make eggs sunny side up without the yolk breaking."

Giggling, Amelia remembered that easily. She had made a point of cozying up to him, wrapping her arms over his from behind. It was an amusing scenario to have her be the smaller spoon, but Amelia loved it. Apparently, Simon did, too, and sunny side up eggs weren't the only things to be successful that day. Amelia was pulled away from her thoughts by the sinfulness of Simon's mouth as he dragged his lips down her throat to her cleavage. That damn ridiculous mustache was an unusual texture, one Amelia wasn't familiar with.

She'd only been with two other guys before, well boys technically. Neither of them had facial hair. Once she'd been accepted into culinary school she'd put her dating life on hold. It was when the outbreak happened that Amelia had graduated. While she never got the chance to open her own restaurant, she was still living her dream at the end of the world, coming up with creative dishes on a budget of limited fresh ingredients and almost expired goods. Right now, though, she had a very particular dish in mind that she wanted Simon to have a taste of.

While Simon freed her breasts from her tank top, pulling it down and out of the way until he could suck a nipple into his clever mouth, Amelia gasped to him, "Simon? You, ah, remember what I said about me making you something besides, uh, cardamom gelato?" She finished that sentence with a loud, wordless moan, head swirling from his administrations. Simon's mouth was nothing short of a miracle performer.

Around a mouthful of tit, Simon hummed his answer to Amelia, "Mhm." He pinched and pulled at her other nipple so that it wouldn't feel neglected. That left his other hand on the back of her neck, tangled up in her blonde hair and keeping it out of his way. Their hips continued to dance with each other as Amelia bared down on him and Simon thrusted his clothed erection upwards. Both of them were striving for the proper friction, just on the other side of being uncomfortable since they were still trapped in their clothes. That wouldn't be for long, though.

Momentarily distracted since Simon was making her feel so good, Amelia's eyes shut and her mouth opened wide, moaning continuously. Simon didn't mind the noise at all, and since they were in the freezer it was unlikely they would be heard. Neither of them felt particularly cold now while they were embraced in such a way. It was one there was the all too brief relief of Simon switching the other nipple that Amelia remembered what she wanted to say to him. "Simon, oh, please eat my pussy, oh God."

Abruptly Simon pulled away with a wet 'pop' of suction. He didn't cease kneading her other breast as he asked her, "Really? Are you sure you want to do that here?" Looking around pointedly, Simon continued, "That doesn't seem very sanitary, Chef Amelia."

"Fuck that, Simon, and fuck me," Amelia bossed him, trying hard to not make that order out like a whine. Proving her point, Amelia stripped her shirt off and tossed it and her bra aside. Cupping herself, she leaned backwards on his lap, propping her elbows on the table behind her for balance. "Don't make me wait any longer, I've wanted to fuck you since you found that box of pancake mix."

One day she had offhandedly mentioned that breakfast was her specialty, and Simon made a note of that. The next time he went out on a run, he came directly back to the kitchens with a box of Aunt Jemima – and even a jar of Daddy Buck's Maple Syrup, too. She'd been smitten long before that, but in the heat of the moment she just barely restrained herself from jumping his bones. At the time, the ingredients to make pancakes were more romantic that a dozen roses or a diamond ring. What can Amelia say except that she was a simple woman and easy to please in that aspect.

Chuckling at her neediness, Simon ripped open his own shirt, buttons flying in all directions. He pulled his arms free and the ruined shirt hung over the back of his chair. The buttons would have to be collected when they were finished so he could sew them back on later; this was one of his favorite shirts after all, but he was trying to show off to her since she was presenting in a similar fashion. As he pulled the undershirt over his head and flung it to the side, he made a point of puffing his chest out before he ran his hands up her stomach to her grasp her breasts again, smushing them together. "Hell, I've wanted to touch your tits since I watched you fish a grape out of your bra." He smiled up at her, relaxed, enjoying this weird confession session. It was on the brink of becoming a competition, but the laughter made it casual.

"Oh, God," Amelia exclaimed, more from the feeling of Simon's callouses on her sensitive nipples than her own embarrassment, "I didn't know you saw that." A blush spread across her cheeks and went all the way down to her breasts. Tomorrow she would have the to face the dilemma of whether or not to hide her hickies, but for now she bore them proudly, enjoying them as a mark of ownership from Simon.

Unwittingly, her eyes fixed themselves on Simon's hairy, bare chest and Amelia felt herself soak her panties. To put it bluntly, Simon was fucking ripped, and the ripple of his abdominal muscles was hypnotizing. She had put her hands on his chest and raked her nails down his abs before she even realized she was touching him. "Shit, Simon, I never thought you'd be this fit, but I guess I should've known better since I saw you lift those two bags of 50-pound flour for me so damn effortlessly." That had been a panty-wetting experience also for Amelia.

Scoffing, Simon rolled his eyes, though internally he was very proud. He hadn't even been showing off then; he just saw that she needed help so he volunteered to do it. No one else had lifted a damn finger, and if anything, Amelia was the one who wowed Simon then as he had seen her toss those flour bags easily, too. "Christ, you look so sexy laid out like this just for me." Simon couldn't help himself from leaning forward and pressing another sweet kiss on her open mouth.

Amelia met his tongue with her own stroke for stroke, nuzzling the tip of her nose into his cheek. When their mouths disconnected, Amelia instantly said before she could even open her eyes, "Fucking eat me out, Simon, please. I want you to have all of me."

Smirking, Simon rhetorically asked, "How can I refuse you?" With that, he stuck his hands underneath her rear and lifting her onto the table. Amelia swept her arm out behind her, knocking the dishes off and they clattered noisily to the floor. Neither of them cared, though. To help Simon strip off her pants and panties, Amelia lifted her hips and he yanked both garments down to her ankles, too impatient now to strip her fully. Scooting up closer to the table, Simon used his elbows to push her legs further apart. With Simon's help, Amelia managed to hook her knees around the corners of the table, her legs forming an awkward diamond shape, the moment of her ankles restricted by her pants.

The table was cold underneath her bare ass, but Amelia was quickly warming up under the heat of Simon's stare. She wished she had the forethought to prepare for this moment, but she hadn't expected it to happen so soon. Amelia was almost regretting asking Simon to perform oral sex, but then Simon said something that changed her mind. "You look motherfucking beautiful, like a fucking feast." With his smoldering dark eyes still glued to the glistening apex of her thighs, Simon informed her, "I'm gonna fucking eat you alive." Then he dived in an all rational thought from Amelia was lost from that moment onward. As soon as Simon wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked, Amelia couldn't even form words anymore, her language restricted to animalistic moans that echoed off the cool, metal walls of the freezer. No regrets from her could be found now so long as Simon kept swirling his tongue around her clit like that.

It was an interesting, new feeling to have Simon's mustache pressed against her most interesting area. When he slipped his mouth down to tongue-fuck her aching hole, drenching his chin in the process with her pussy juices, his mustache brushed teasingly against her clit. The only thing Amelia would be able to liken it to later was when she was riding top and would grind down hard enough so that she could scratch her clit against the man's pubic hair. Once Simon's mustache started tickling her clit like that, though, Amelia didn't ever want him to stop. Instantly, her hands grasped his head and directed his movements, pushing and pulling him like she liked. Despite the mind-numbing pleasure she was receiving, Amelia wasn't so far gone that she would be careless as she made sure she didn't scratch him with her nails or anything like that. Her back arched, head thumping hard against the table as she pushed her pussy into his face. Simon ate pussy like a god.

On Simon's end, things were almost as pleasurable for him, too. He didn't just like receiving oral, he loved delivering it. The musky, salty taste of a woman's cunt was one of the best delicacies the world had to offer; and Amelia's cunt was the best he had ever tasted. Her unique flavor had a surprisingly sweet aftertaste, and in the back of his mind he imagined that was the case because they ate so much ice cream together. By that same line of thinking, his semen must taste rather sweet as well. But he didn't want her to suck his dick tonight, perhaps save that for another time. Simon didn't think he would be able to hold out for that long if she were to go down on him.

Renewing his efforts on her pussy, he gave her a proper tongue-lashing. Like he had done earlier with the cardamom gelato, Simon slurped down her juices greedily and noisily, catching most of the fluid on his mustache. Quickly, he caught on that Amelia was a fan of the mustache against her clit, so Simon made a point of dragging his hairy upper lip of her clit, scrubbing it against her in circular patterns. She went wild at that, and Simon repeated the process several times, his tongue trapped in her pussy and his face wiggling back and forth between the swollen lips of her labia major.

"Simon!" Amelia suddenly shouted at him, finally able to form words. Her eyes rolled around wildly underneath her eyelids, jaw cramping from being held open so wide. Simon could relate. "I'm gonna, I'm gonna, oh fuck! I'm coming!"

And Amelia did more than just come, she squirted on Simon, too. Pulling back strictly in surprise, Simon's eyebrows crawled high up his forehead in fascination. He had never been with a woman who had done that with him before. Simon had heard Negan brag about it, but Simon thought that only happened strictly with vibrators and similar sex toys. It seemed Simon was more skilled than he previously believed.

Meanwhile, as Amelia rode out her orgasm, she was distantly aware that it was a lot wetter than normal. When her bleary eyes peaked over her breasts and stomach, she could distinctly see the moisture caught on Simon's mustache that dripped all the wide down his chin and neck. Blinking in an attempt to think clearly once more, Amelia numbly asked, "Fuck, did I really come that much?"

Looking very much like the cat that ate the cream in all sense of the simile, Simon boasted with a silly grin, "You squirted on me, Amelia." He smacked the sensitive insides of her thighs in congratulations, as equally pleased with her as he was with himself.

Mortified, Amelia lifted herself on shaking arms, sweaty palms flat against the tabletop. "Oh my God, Simon, I'm so sorry. I've never done that before in my life. I didn't even know I could!"

Wiping away the excess fluid with the back of his hand, Simon shrugged, clearly the opposite of bothered. "You're just full of surprises, then, Amelia," he suggested in a low tone of voice. "Don't worry, though, you tasted fucking delicious."

"Better than cardamom gelato?" Amelia asked in disbelief.

"A million times better, Amelia," Simon assured her before swiftly standing. He started unbuckling his belt, and Amelia felt herself pulse with excitement again. She couldn't wait to see him and then feel him inside of her. Already, she could see the tantalizing outline of his erection, and he look almost intimidatingly huge. Licking her lips, though, Amelia believed she could take him all.

Eagerly, Simon unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and pushed them down his thighs to his knees along with his boxers. Without preamble, his erection sprang up to attention, hanging thick and heavy between his legs, his balls uncomfortably full and tight. His cock rose proudly from the tangled nest of black pubic hair, surprisingly streaked with grey, and it wept precum, bulbous mushroom tip nearly purple in color. He took himself in hand, and those his hands were large, they were nearly dwarfed by the size of cock. Simon had the right to have an inflated male ego when his cock was already monstrously large even when he wasn't aroused.

"Fuck, Simon," Amelia groaned, tilted her head back, and flopped down on her elbows. "You better fuck me with your huge, fucking cock right now." She drew up her knees and pushed herself down until she was at the very edge of the table. Reaching above her, she gripped the far edge of the table, bracing herself for him and offering herself up completely.

Stepping forward, Simon placed his palms on her kneecaps, holding her open and in place. He tapped the head of cock against her sensitive clit a couple of times, watching her jolt with pleasure. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard, Amelia," Simon promised her seriously. Then he thrusted into her waiting heat, not stopping until he was fully sheathed inside of her. Amelia shrieked her pleasure and Simon groaned in harmony. Why had they waited so long to do this again?

Like a gentleman, Simon waited until Amelia had adjusted to his size before he started ramming into her. His pace was hard and fast, and eventually he had to move his hands down to grip the edge of the table because the force of his thrusts was steadily pushing it across the floor. Simon's muscles were flexing in all their glory as he moved, but Amelia's baby blues were too busy rolling around her head to notice. No doubt by tomorrow her voice would be hoarse with all the shrieking she was doing, and she'd probably be walking a little funny, too, for at least two to three days. If Simon was going to continue at this angle, he'd probably throw out his back, so he adjusted without faltering his pace. He bent his knees slightly, tilted his hips a bit. The new angle shifted it to where Simon went from just brushing against Amelia's g-spot to full on hitting it now with the blunt head of his cock. Amelia made that clear when there was definite increase in her volume.

God, she was a sight writhing underneath him like this. Her breasts bounced violently every time their hips slammed together, and Simon was enjoying how everything else was jiggling, too, from her thighs to her belly. Actual tears were starting to leak from the corners of her eyes that were squeezed shut so tightly. Her face was screwed up in pleasure, as if she had a lemon in her open mouth. Those lips were just as pink as her raw nipples and her pretty pussy, Simon noticed. Simon's only regret was that he didn't have an extra hand so that he could clasp her throat and add another set of bruises to the growing collection on her chest.

Quite suddenly, Amelia's eyes shot open; and when she saw that Simon was watching her, she came screaming his name, her face crumpling in pleasure. Her pussy pulsed and gushed around him, even wetter and hotter than before, so much so that it was a sharp contrast the nip in the air from the freezer. Before Simon could help himself, he came inside of her, pumping her full of his own hot come, so much so that when he pulled out and dropped backwards in his chair, it had already started to leak out of pussy and drip on the table, creamy and white.

"We made you into a cream pie, Amelia," Simon informed her matter-of-factly, voice raspy and thick. On a whim, he leaned down and licked her clean of his essence. Hm, he wasn't quite as a sweet as he thought, actually kind of bitter. His essence combined with own, though, was a heady combination, and one Simon didn't mind in the slightest as he cleaned her up until there was a speck of while left on her glistening, shiny pussy. Once he finished cleaning her, though, Amelia came for a third time, too easy to push over the edge fresh from her orgasm as she was. This time when she came it was only with a breathy whimper, and she shuddered and pulsed, thighs quivering with her powerful aftershocks.

Sitting back in his chair, Simon absentmindedly tucked himself away again. From the table, though, Amelia didn't even lift her head to look at him as she asked, "Wouldn't you like a third course, Simon?"

At that, Simon had to laugh, "You're insatiable." He stood and leaned over her body, pinning her to the table with his hands on either side of her head.

"Only for you, Simon," Amelia conceded. Then Simon kissed her, sharing the flavor of their combined orgasm. This kiss was unlike their others for its languid nature, and they drew it out lazily until they were interrupted by noises from outside the freezer.

"Where the fuck is Simon? There's been a break-in! Some motherfucker coming in guns-a-fucking-blazing! Where the FUCK is Simon?!"

At the familiar voice, Simon scrambled to yank on his shirt. Negan needed him now. They had to figure out how this could happen, if anyone was injured or killed, how many intruders there were, whether or not to capture or kill the intruders, see if anything was missing, see if anyone escaped. Seeing Amelia had gotten his mind off of work, but now work was cutting into his Amelia time again. He made a promise to himself to make it up to her later as he wasn't quite finished with her yet.

Unabashed, unbothered, and unashamed since she was in such a satisfied and sated state, Amelia watched him in amusement. Her hand crawled down between her thighs, and she swirled her index finger around her clit. "You want me to meet you in your room later?" News of a break-in didn't bother Amelia at all, but maybe that's her sex-addled brain talking.

Belatedly smoothing his hair and patting his mustache, Simon looked back at her and immediately was forced to adjust himself. Despite having just came, he was at half-mast again already. That had to be gone before he could see Negan. Still, Simon said, "That's a promise, Amelia. Now get out of the freezer before you catch your death." He blew her a kiss goodbye and Amelia giggled at the action, sexed up and in love with him.

After he left, Amelia was forced to recognize that it was getting a little too nippy in here to bare. Her nipples were no longer perked up because of Simon, but rather now because of the cold. The cum rapidly cooling between her thighs was sticky, uncomfortable. She wanted to wash up before she saw him later. Climbing to her feet, she stretched out her muscles that pleasantly ached and pulled on her clothes slowly, taking her time. There was no other way to put it than Amelia got thoroughly fucked. This was going to be the beginning of a long and beautiful relationship.


End file.
